


Laundry Day

by JadeTigress



Series: Villainous Writing Prompts [1]
Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: M/M, One Shot, Sharing Clothes, Writing Prompt, chore wheel and all, flug looks good in red, for the premise of this fic just assume these disasters function like a normal household, kinda of, never trust dementia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-05 23:08:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13398219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JadeTigress/pseuds/JadeTigress
Summary: Flug doesn't have time to do his part of the chores, so he asks Dementia to do the laundry for him.This of course, ends about as well as you might expect.





	Laundry Day

**Author's Note:**

> Done for a prompt on tumblr!  
> Prompt was: "'Is that my shirt?' Bh and Flug, pls something with no angst"
> 
> Don't worry not angst in this one... /this/ one
> 
> Thanks again to my beta reader abyssinalphantom.tumblr.com, who received this at 5:30am, a real angel

Flug stood in the middle of the disaster area known as the kitchen, disassociating only a little bit as he dazily watched the thin stream of coffee trickle out of the coffee maker and into his awaiting mug. The sound of the liquid hitting the bottom of the ceramic cup was music to his ears, as he slowly blinked away the heaviness of his eyelids.

When the machine was finished, he happily turned to retrieve milk from the fridge.

His mood dropped as he scanned the shelves, only to find them mostly empty, save for some junk food and other questionable items shoved towards the back.

He grimaced and cursed quietly, slowly closing the door to see what his mind had already sped up to process.

The chore wheel, taped off-center to the fridge door, stared at him, mocking him and his coffee.

Of course, it was 5.0.5's day off, which meant Dementia and Flug were in charge of chores.

Honestly, the wheel itself was a little unfair, seeing as it was far from divided equally, and didn't even have every member of the household on it, so it ended up looking more like a blue circle with a small wedge inserted, cut in half with a hastily scribbled “Flug” on one half and a tiny “Dem” on the other, as if she was hoping nobody would notice it.

“Oh no,” Flug muttered, gears in his brain finally spinning into action. “Oh no.”

He'd entirely forgotten, and still had a deadline due by the end of the day, he had no time for chores, which meant he'd be forced to ask Dementia to take his. Which meant he'd “owe her one.”

And he still didn't have any milk. What a great start to the day.

He took a slow sip of his bitter coffee, before turned and heading off to track down her down.

 

* * *

 

“Look, it's just laundry, please Dementia?” Flug sighed. He resisted the urge to just lay down on the floor. He was still working through his (now lukewarm and bitter) coffee, and he wasn't prepared for the mental onslaught that was bartering with Dementia.

“It's laundry for _three people_ , Flug, and I'm _already_ doing the dishes. You want me to do laundry _and_ dishes?” She replied, resting her hands on her hips.

“And the groceries,” Flug mumbled under his breath.

“ _And_ the groceries?” Dementia parroted, tilting her head to the side and narrowing her eyes.

“Look, you don't have to worry about mine, so that's less work, and uh,” he searched desperately for an argument. “You could mess with Black Hat's things? I don't know.”

Dementia's eyes lit up ominously, and Flug quickly reconsidered his words.

“Actually, don't do that, because he'll blame me probably, and I would prefer that not happen,” he said, giving her a pleading look.

“Urgh, so you're saying I just get more work and you get off?” She pouted.

“I still have work to do!” Flug replied. Fine, time for the last ditch effort. “And... I'll owe you one,” he sighed.

Her grin was always terrifying when she knew she has him cornered.

“Anything?” She asked, dragging out the vowels. She clasped her hands in front of her and bounced excitedly on her toes.

“Anything that doesn't get me killed or maimed preferably,” he said, already regretting not only this choice, but every one since college that had gotten him to this point. “Specifically by our boss but also by outside threats too.”

“Can't make any promises,” Dementia hummed, “but you'll probably not be maimed.”

Flug was going to comment, but eventually settled on apathetic and ready for death may it come.

“Sure, lets go with probably, it's better than the definitely if I don't start working on this project right now,” he said. “So you'll do it?”

“Yeah, yeah, don't worry Flug-bug,” she said, shooting him another grin, “I'll get right on it!”

Flug knew, he _knew,_ that something bad was going to come from that grin, but he had things to do and cold coffee to drink, so he just thanked her and went off to work on his project, missing Dementia's quiet chuckle as she scampered off.

 

* * *

 

It was fast approaching his deadline, and Flug was putting the finishing touches on his project. His mind had completely strayed from the earlier events of the day as he gave the device one last test, before nodding in satisfaction.

He was just scraping by nowadays with his deadlines, but today wouldn't be the day he missed it, not yet.

He checked his watch, he still had an hour before Black Hat had told him they'd be filming. That gave him time to run to his room and change into some more presentable clothes before he had to be broadcasted live.

In his haste, he turned a corner too fast, and crashed directly into a moving ball of neon,, knocking his head against none other than Dementia's rock hard skull.

“Ow!” She said, taking a quick step back and rubbing at her forehead.

“Sorry,” he muttered, blinking away the static that had flared up in his vision.

“Oh, Flug!” She bounced back immediately, grinning and throwing her arm around his shoulder, causing him to wobble. “Good to see you un-maimed.”

“Uh-?” Flug drawled for a moment, shoving the past few hours to the side and dragging up their conversation from the morning. “Oh, yeah, everything's done.”

“Cool, your dumb laundry's in your room, I threw it all on your bed because I sure as hell ain't going through your nerd-space,” she gave his back a pat, before withdrawing.

“Oh, thanks, you didn't have to,” he said, surprised that Dementia had actually done more work than he'd asked.

“Don't worry about it,” she replied, giving him an exaggerated wink.

“Okay,” he said, giving her a confused look.

“I also went to the grocery, and got like, half the dishes done before I got bored,” she reported, tapping at her cheek in thought.

“Why – “

“I'll get back to it, don't worry,” she said. She made a dismissive motion at him. “Just go get changed or whatever.”

“How did you know I was doing that?” He asked, suspicious.

“Because you're live in like half an hour and you look like, uh...” she bit her lip and raised her eyebrows.

“Hey!” Flug said, frowning and looking down at his outfit. Sure, maybe his coat had some oil on it, and the shirt was a little faded, but he didn't appreciate the jab.

“Tired. How about you look tired?” She finished, grinning at him. She giggled and graciously accepted the punch he gave to her shoulder.

He shifted to move past her and down the hall, before a thought struck him.

“Hey, could you not crash the broadcast this time?” He said. “Black Hat seemed extra annoyed yesterday about it, and I'd rather this one go as smoothly as it can.”

Dementia hummed, chewing on her bottom lip.

“Don't worry Flug, I think it'll go fine.” She gave him two thumbs up.

“I – okay,” Flug said, somehow not quite trusting her. He turned to leave.

“Oh!” She exclaimed. She clapped her hands loudly, making Flug jump and turn back to her. “I almost forgot! I left a shirt out on your bed that Black Hat said you should wear for the broadcast.”

Flug stood there for a moment, staring at her in confusion, but she didn't break. She just looked back, not even grinning evilly.

“He wants me to wear a specific shirt?” He asked. She nodded. “Are you messing with me?”

“No!” She cried, pouting. “I'm serious!”

Another quiet moment passed. Dementia made an exasperated expression, as if Flug were the weird one in this exchange.

“...why?” Flug asked, still suspicious.

“Something about 'building an image' and 'looking more villainous' and 'uniform' and 'red looks good on you–'” she broke off into a snort, bending over slightly as she suppressed her laughter.

Flug felt his face heat up slightly. He crossed his arms and rolled his eyes as Dementia wiped at her eyes.

“Haha, good one Dementia, real comedic genius, now if you'll excuse me–“ he tried to push past her.

“No!” She cried, jumping back into his path, she held up a finger as she fought back down her chuckles, before taking a deep breath and straightening. “No, okay, okay, I made up that last one, maybe, but the first two were absolutely him.”

Flug tapped a foot impatiently, debating on whether or not to shove her.

“Seriously,” she said, giving him a smile.

“Fine,” Flug muttered, sighing. “If this is a prank…”

“No dude, for real, you need to listen to me, you'll thank me!”

“Thank you?” He asked.

“Or like, I mean like regret it if you don't,” she said.

“Fine, fine,” he sighed. “Just let me by I really have to go.”

“Sorry,” she replied, stepping to the side, and waving at his back as he rushed towards him room.

As promised, there was a single red shirt folded neatly on his bed. He gave it a dubious look, strolling over, eyes drawn to the small note left beside it.

_Wear this! -Dem ;)_

She must have left it in case they hadn't run into each other in the hall, but this note was even vaguer and more suspicious than her in person explanation.

He checked his watch, time had flown rather quickly, and if he didn't move quickly he'd be late.

It was just a plain red shirt, he didn't know how it made him any more intimidating than his usual outfit. Though, he wasn't sure exactly what drastic measures would have to be taken to make him even close to as intimidating as Black Hat – demonic possession maybe and even then he'd still be a twig.

Which, speaking of, the shirt was even slightly loose on him, hanging slightly off of his body, hem falling just a smidgen below his waist, but luckily the fit was mostly hidden when he threw a clean lab coat over his shoulders.

He might have thought the whole thing over and double guessed himself, but the alarm on his phone went off, alerting him that he was to get down to Black Hat's office immediately, so that's exactly what he did.

As he rushed into his lab to snag the invention before meeting Black Hat, he spotted 5.0.5. out of the corner of his eye. The bear was stretching, apparently waking from a nap. He smiled, pausing for just a moment to greet him.

“Hey, Fives, having a good day off?” He asked, grabbing the cube from his desk and shoving it into the pocket of his coat.

The bear yawned, showing off his gleaming fangs – the one part of the original “evil design” that had actually been successful, not that he would ever put them to use. The somewhat menacing image was completely off-put however, by the way his daisy waved lazily back and forth, and the small squeak that emerged from his mouth.

“Good to hear,” he chuckled, giving 5.0.5 a pat on his way by.

The bear blinked lazily, reaching up to rub at his eyes with a paw. After a second, he squinted at Flug, staring at him in confusion, but the man was already quick on his way out, and he didn't get a good look at him.

He moved to follow Flug, before shrugging and settling back down for another nap.

 

* * *

 

“Sorry I'm late, boss!” Flug said quickly as he rushed into Black Hat's office.

Thankfully, said boss seemed to be distracted arguing with the “cameraman,” so Flug quickly quieted himself, and slipped into his designated spot without notice.

“Stop aiming that in my eyes!” Black Hat shouted, taking a swipe at one of the many arms of Cam-bot, the one with the lights. They recoiled quickly out of reach, and while they technically couldn't make facial expressions, Flug got a strong sense of indignation from the robot as they clutched the offending arm close to their core. It wasn't the first time Black Hat had tried to tear off one of their appendages.

Black Hat didn't stop though, and took a step towards the camera. They quickly retreated, using they're extendable legs to walk directly over Black Hat, and duck behind Flug.

“Oh so I'm the human shield,” he said, turning to look over his shoulder at the camera, who responded by clicking on their internal fan and clicking their clapperboard twice.

“Flug!” Black Hat shouted, causing Flug to jump and spin back around. “Finally.”

“Uh,” so he his lateness had been noticed, “sorry, sir. But we can proceed with the filming now, I have the invention you requested–” he fumbled for a moment, digging into his pocket for the machine. He pulled it out and brandished it for his boss to see, smiling nervously.

However, Black Hat had paused, staring at Flug. He didn't speak, and Flug got increasingly anxious as the moment stretched on, Black Hat simply squinting at him.

“Um, boss?” He asked, once it became apparent Black Hat wasn't going to say anything. “Is everything okay–?”

“Is that my shirt?” Black Hat finally spoke, interrupting Flug as normal.

“Oh!” Flug had completely forgotten. He glanced down at the bright red t-shirt, before looking back up at where Black Hat was still squinting at him. So that confirmed Black Hat had given it to Dementia, hadn't he? In that case, why was he confused.

“Dementia told me that you gave it to her, to give to me, to tell me to wear it,” he explained quickly, making sure to _immediately_ implicate the least trustworthy member of the household and throw her under the bus. Just in case.

“Oh did she?” he asked. He still hadn't moved, and Flug was starting to get concerned.

“Yes?” He replied, stretching out the word. “Um, is there a problem?”

He wrung his hands in nervousness, confused. He was distracted by the sound of clicking behind him, and he turned to see Cam-bot. Their camera was pointed down, and a string of erratic clicks were coming from it. Their internal fan sped into high gear, and after a moment, Flug realized they must have been laughing.

“I'm going to kill her,” Black Hat said, making Flug's attention snap back to him. He was staring at the doorway, before he began to make his way towards it. “She's seen her last day on Earth.”

“What?” Flug asked, eyes wide and filled with terror. “Wait what?”

Black Hat bristled and turned towards Flug.

“Why was Dementia touching my things?” Black Hat asked, derailing Flug's thoughts yet again.

“I don't…” Flug started, before it finally clicked in his head, embarrassingly late.

“I– Uh– I– “ Flug stammered.

The clicking behind him turned into a loud whirring, not unlike the sound of a cassette being rewound a little too forcefully. Cam-bot had settled onto the ground, hands clutched to the front of their lens as they clicked and whirred.

“I'm so sorry,” Flug rushed out, clumsily dropping the invention, but he was too distracted to notice. He leaned back away from Black Hat, hunching his shoulders and holding his hands to his face in mortification. “This is my fault I– she must have done this to get back at me, I– I'm sorry!”

“Get back at you?” Black Hat asked, narrowing his eye. Flug felt pierced straight through the chest and pinned like a specimen from one of his high school projects.

“I made her do laundry,” Flug replied. “I– She– She must have thought that I– I don't know I'm sorry.” He covered.

A heavy silence fell over the room. Flug would have called it awkward, if he hadn't also been immobilized by fear and anxiety.

“She's not allowed to touch my things,” Black Hat said at last. There was an odd strain to his words.

It wasn't exactly what Flug had expected him to say, and he was left confused again. At least it seemed his anger had simmered down.

“I know I didn't– I didn't think about that and I–” Flug made a vague hand motion when words failed him.

“No, that's not...” Black Hat grimaced. He bared his teeth and his eyes darted back to the door, then back to Flug. “Why did she do that?”

“Um!” Flug's voice tittered for a second, and he felt his face heating up (luckily covered by the bag). “I don't know! But it's my fault I'll wash it and give it–”

“Shut up,” Black Hat snapped, making Flug jump again.

“Oh– oh I'm sorry, no, I get it, you wouldn't want it ba–”

“Shut up!” Black Hat repeated, and Flug quickly clapped his hands over his mouth to stop the nervous, embarrassed rambling.

“We're running late,” Black Hat announced loudly, surprising Flug by the sudden change of subject.

“But–”

“Flug,” Black Hat glared at him, silencing him immediately. Flug just nodded quickly.

When he didn't make any move to get closer however, Black Hat scowled and tapped his foot impatiently. When Flug _still_ remained frozen, he scoffed.

“What, do you expect me to smite you or something? It's just a shirt, now get over here,” he said, but Flug noticed how tense he seemed, he must have still been angry.

Meanwhile, Cam-bot was still “laughing.” If he hadn't been so wrapped up in the current situation, Flug would have been concerned the poor thing was short-circuiting themself, what with the concerning noises it was making.

“But then why...” Flug began, but thought better of asking questions.

Black Hat sniffed. “She's not supposed to touch my things,” he repeated, answering the question Flug didn't finish.

“Oh...” Flug said. He blushed even more, realizing how much he'd overreacted to the situation. Of course, that must have been what Dementia wanted, to torture him, but not enough to get him maimed, how considerate.

He finally realized he'd dropped the invention. He quickly scooped it up and headed over to where Black Hat was gesturing. His heart rate leveled to a normal speed again.

“I'll uh– do you want me to get it back to–”

“Don't,” Black Hat interrupted, making Flug flinch again. The demon looked somewhat guilty at Flug's startled jump and the way his shoulders slumped, and made a pained face.

“Not like that–” he scoffed. “It's fine, keep it,” he said, averting his eyes and tapping his foot distractedly. “It's not a big deal.”

When the tension left Flug, Black Hat nodded and shifted his glare to the camera. Lucky for Cam-bot, they had managed to get themself under control again as to not aggravate Black Hat's anger.

“Get over here before I take another arm!” Black Hat shouted, making Flug start again, and causing Cam-bot to scramble over quickly.

The robot began running a few preliminary tests, adjusting the lights and microphones.

Flug fiddled with the invention nervously, almost missing when Black Hat cleared his throat.

“Besides, red looks good– uh, as a uniform,” Black Hat said. Flug did a double-take, not quite sure he heard correctly, but before he could comment Cam-bot snapped their clapperboard loudly, and their red light flashed brightly.

Black Hat launched into his typical villainous speech, and Flug was left wondering if he'd really woken up this morning. Or maybe Dementia spiked his coffee.

 

* * *

 

“Did you get it Cammy, please tell me you got it, _please_ ,” Dementia said, jumping up and down in delight after she'd intercepted the robot on their way back to the lab.

They stared at her for a moment before buzzing and waving her quickly into a side room.

“You got the goods?” Dementia chuckled.

Cam-bot responded with a quick whir, the sound of rewinding, and then –

“Besides, red looks good– uh, as a uniform,” they parroted in Black Hat's voice.

“Oh my god!” Dementia squealed, bending over and laughing hysterically. “I can't– I can't believe he actually said that!”

They clicked and whirred, snapping the clapperboard a couple times quickly for emphasis, before playing the clip again on repeat.

“Dementia!” They heard, shouted loudly from down the hallway.

“Oh shit,” she said, straightening up. “Gotta bounce Cam my friend, good work.”

The robot graciously accepted the hive five from the woman, making sure their sharp “fingers” were pointed away.

She quickly ran away, off to find a hiding spot until Black Hat wore himself out.

Worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> Dementia was never seen again.  
> Jk, but I do love the idea of Dementia and Cam-bot pulling pranks together, the dream team.
> 
> If you have any prompts or requests, my tumblr is jadetigress.tumblr.com


End file.
